


only lovers left alive

by JediAnnieScrambler



Category: A Simple Favor (2018), UnREAL (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Homophobic Language, Honeymoon, I'm trying to write it in such a way that you don't have to know both fandoms to read it, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mutual Pining, Post A Simple Favor (2018), Sharing a Bed, This takes place between s2 and s3 of UnReal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-08 16:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediAnnieScrambler/pseuds/JediAnnieScrambler
Summary: When Emily and Stephanie book a trip to a remote lodge on an island in the Pacific Northwest, they were expecting a quiet place to have their honeymoon, away from the sliver of fame Stephanie's blog and Emily's disappearance garnered. When Quinn called Rachel at midnight and told her to pack her bags she told her it was to scout a location for the next season of Everlasting.No one expected their trip to have a body count.





	1. into the woods

“Miles is slightly allergic to gluten but only slightly,” Stephanie said, wringing her hands, “so he can have like maybe two slices of pizza but then no bagels for a month. And Nicky sleeps with a nightlight, but he’s kinda sensitive about it, so don’t say it’s a nightlight for him, just plug it in and say you need some extra mood lighting.” 

 

Dennis Nylon looked from Emily to Stephanie and back to Emily again, wondering how exactly he ended up in this situation. 

 

He sniffed, trying to regain some air of unimpressed pose as he said, “I do not take orders from pixies in last year’s Gap sweaters.” 

 

Stephanie opened her mouth to snap back what Dennis assumed would have been a biting reply when Emily put her hands on her wife’s shoulders, “Why don’t you see how the boys are settling in, baby?” 

 

“Okay,” Stephanie said, eyeing Dennis as she walked up to his house. 

 

“Your tiny wife is scarier than you are,” Dennis comment once she was gone.

 

Emily laughed, “Stephanie can be a force of nature when she wants too, frilly apron and all.” 

 

“You owe me,” he said offering Emily an arm to guide her into the house. 

 

Emily smiled, “No I don’t.” 

 

“Do you know how many birthdays, soccer games, and first days of school I’ve missed working for you?” She continued. “Too many. You can at least let me have my honeymoon.” 

 

“What about the other mothers, none of them can take your two darling angels?” Dennis said with a touch of sarcasm. 

 

“I don’t trust them,” said Emily, “it’s only for a few days, it’ll be fine. I trust you Dennis.” 

 

“Hmph,” he said, pausing before adding, “Why I don’t know. Where are you two love birds flying off to again?” 

 

“Stephanie found a little lodge on some island in the San Juans,” she explained, “I wanted to take her to the south of France but she didn’t want to leave the kiddos that long, and neither did I once we really talked about it.” 

 

Dennis stopped and looked at Emily, “You’ve really taken to this whole married thing haven’t you?” 

 

“Second time's the charm.” 

 

… 

 

“Sorry Ma’am but I don’t see a reservation under the name Quinn King,” the man behind the counter said. He wasn’t really a man, Rachel amended, not like the ones she knew. The boy behind the counter looked to be in his late teens, with a name tag that read Danny. Rachel felt sorry for Danny as she watched Quinn press her lips into a thin, angry line. 

 

“Check again,” Quinn ordered and the boy typed her name into the computer for the third time.

 

Rachel rubbed her eyes, she hadn’t slept since midnight the night before when Quinn’s call had woken her. When it came to midnight phone calls, Rachel was used to them during filming, but not during hiatus. Holding the phone a few inches from her face, she had squinted at the glaringly bright screen, not quite comprehending the name displayed. She hit answer. 

 

“Quinn?” 

 

“How soon can you be ready to fly out to Washington for the week?” Quinn had said on the other end. 

 

“I- what?” Rachel ran a hand through her hair. She started up at the roof of her car, where she’d been sleeping for the past week and a half since filming wrapped. 

 

“How soon can you be ready to fly out to scout filming locations for next season?” 

 

“Now I guess?” Rachel said. 

 

That’s how she’d ended up driving to Quinn’s house, a plane ticket pressed into her hand on arrival. 

 

“You look like shit,” Quinn had said in lieu of greeting.

 

“I missed you too.” 

 

Now, nearly twenty hours later, they stood in The Sailor’s Delight Inn and Lodge. Leaning against the counter, Rachel looked over the lobby. The antler covered chandelier didn’t provided adequate lighting but there was enough room for whatever lights filming equipment they’d need to bring in. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel glanced at Quinn. The lodge wasn’t the typical Everlasting look, it looked as if it belonged in a show on the Sportsman Channel, not exactly the fairy tale romance look that they sold on their reality show. 

 

“Sorry, there aren’t any reservations under the name Quinn King,” Danny said, nervously. 

 

Quinn huffed, glaring. Lowering her voice she said, “Try Chet Wilton.” 

 

Danny typed it into the computer, “Oh there it is. But that’s… not you.” 

 

“Here,” Quinn flicked a credit card at him, “This is the card used for the reservation and it  _ is _ in my name.” 

 

As Danny finished checking them in, shaking under Quinn’s glare the whole time, Rachel’s attention was drawn across the lobby again to where two well dressed women were walking through the doors. 

 

One was tall, blonde and wearing a suit. If it was an evening gown, Rachel mused, she might be wifey material. But it was the shorter of the two that caught Rachel’s attention. 

 

“Hey,” She nudged Quinn, “Does the brunette look familiar to you?” 

 

Quinn looked, “No. Why? Do you think she was one of our girls? She looks like a cryer.” 

 

“No I don’t think she was on the show, she just looks familiar for some reason,” Rachel shook her head, “It’s probably nothing.” 

 

“Sure,” Quinn picked up her bag, “We have room 403.” 

 

And with that, she walked down the hall, leaving Rachel to grab her bags and catch up. 

 

… 

 

“For you baby,” Emily said, pulling out a chair for Stephanie. Stephanie smiled up at her wife, smoothing her skirt under her as she sat down. 

 

After checking in and freshening up in their room, they’d descended the giant staircase to the restaurant located in the lodge. 

 

“We’re pretty secluded,” the young man at the front desk said as he’d handed them their room keys, “That’s why we have a full service restaurant located on your right. Our hours are nine a.m. to midnight.”

 

“Do you have a bar?” Emily had asked.

 

“Yes ma’am, it’s full service.”

 

Emily smirked at Stephanie, “Good choice baby.”

 

Now Emily took the seat across from Stephaine by the tall windows that lined one wall. It overlooked the cliff face the lodged was built atop of, and the dark water below. The sun had set hours ago, and what Emily assumed had once been a pretty oceanscape was now sinister and dark after the sunset. Especially with the snow fluttering down. 

 

“I, for one, am starving,” Stephanie announced as the picked up her menu, flipping through it.

 

“Can I get drinks started for you?” the waitress said with a smile.

 

Emily glanced at Stephanie, “The usual?” she said, and when Stephanie nodded, Emily turned to the waitress to say, “Two dry martinis.”

 

“Oh martinis!” a woman at the table next to them said, “I’ll take one as well!”

 

“Me too!” said the other woman at that table. There were four people total at the table next to them, two couples Emily guessed. 

 

“Four martinis, got it,” the waitress said, rushing off before Emily could correct her, they wanted  _ dry _ martinis. 

 

“Hi there!” One of the women at the table next to them said, “I’m Jane and this is my husband Andrew.”

 

“And I’m Lucy,” the other woman said, “And this is my husband Richie!”

 

The respective husbands have little nods and half waves in greeting.

 

“Are you two sisters?” Lucy asked.

 

Emily and Stephanie exchanged a quick glance, Stephanie’s worried and annoyed and Emily’s just plainly annoyed. There wasn’t guests in the dining room, but Lucy’s voice carried. Emily could see the younger man at the bar sneak a look in their direction. 

 

“No actually,” Stephanie said as Emily opened her mouth, “I’m Stephanie and this is my wife Emily. We’re here on our honeymoon.”

 

“Oh!” Lucy’s face lit up in surprise, “I’m sorry, you both are just so pretty, I thought- I mean-”

 

It was a rare apology that Emily let slide without complaining about women’s tendency to over apologize. Instead, she smiled coquettishly at Lucy.

 

“Thanks, you’re so pretty too, don’t you think baby?”

 

Stephanie nodded, “Yes, of course, you’re all very attractive, I feel like I’m on a movie set or something.”

 

“Just so pretty,” Emily continued, laying it on thick, “Do you guys want to have a six way?” 

 

“Em,” Stephanie said, after taking a long drink of the martini the waiter put in front of her.

 

“C’mon baby, it’ll be fun,” Emily winked at her wife. 

 

“What? No!” Lucy cried.

 

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Andrew said, “I mean, we’re open minded and everything. In fact, for my last birthday Jane and I had a threeway, with a girl, of course.”

 

“Of course,” Stephanie echoed, turning just so the other table couldn’t see her eye roll. Emily smirked, she was rubbing off on perky little Stephanie. 

 

“But I mean, another guy?” Richie said, flushing and shaking his head.

 

“When I said you two were pretty, I didn’t mean-” Lucy said at the same time. 

 

“Oh my god!” Emily said with a grin, she loved watching the two couples squirm, “We should invite everyone! Like that old guy there! Hi!”

 

She waved at an older gentleman sitting at a table by himself on the other side of the room. Stephanie downed the rest of her martini in one go. 

 

“Shh!” Lucy cried, “We do not want to have a- a  _ six way _ with you!”

 

Emily leaned back in her chair and reached for her martini, “Your loss then.” 

 

“Maybe you should ask then,” Richie said, gesturing across the dining room to where two dark haired women sat across from one another, heads bent in conversation. 

 

“Oh god they’re multiplying!” groaned Lucy and Jane tried to shush her. 

 

“I saw them check in when we arrived,” said Stephanie, “Maybe we should introduce ourselves later.” 

 

“Sorry to bother you guys,” the young man from the bar had walked over to stand in front of their table, “But are you Stephanie Smothers?” 

 

“Yes, do I- oh!” Stephanie gasped in recognition, “You’re Matt Ward!” 

 

“Yeah! That means you must be the infamous Emily,” he reached out to shake first Stephanie’s hand then Emily’s. 

 

“And who, pray tell, is Matt Ward?” Emily asked, “Another brother?” 

 

“No,” said Stephanie absently, then more firmly, “ _ No _ . He's a famous YouTube vlogger, mostly making videos about stunts and stuff, and was the first person to hit one million subscribers.” 

 

“Wow, a real Warden,” Matt said with a laugh, “I like your vlog too, but don’t tell anybody, it’ll ruin my street cred.” 

 

Stephanie laughed, “I have no clue what that means but I think it’s funny!” 

 

“I’m glad you guys are both okay though, that was so crazy that your husband turned out to be a psycho but I mean, men, can’t trust them right?” Matt said, still smiling. 

 

“No you certainly can’t,” Said Emily. 

 

“Was it hard? To shoot him when he attacked you guys in your house?” 

 

Stephanie’s face turned sad, “I wasn’t really thinking about Sean, just about how I needed to protect Emily and our boys from the monster trying to hurt us.” 

 

“And Sean’s fine,” Emily added, “They tell me he’s recovering well in a jail cell.” 

 

Matt shifted between his feet, “I’m up here to film some videos in the woods and by the water, hey, we should talk YouTube later. Maybe colab on a video?” 

 

“That would be fun,” Said Stephanie. 

 

“Cool, I guess I’ll see you guys around,” said Matt with a wave as he left. 

 

“I’m sorry did you say you were Stephanie Smothers and Emily Nelson?” Jane asked, obviously eavesdropping. 

 

“It’s Nelson-Smothers now,” 

 

“What are you talking about?” Said Andrew. 

 

“Andrew! Don’t you remember? Last fall we were watching that blog where the woman went missing and her friend ended up finding her?” said Lucy. 

 

“Oh right,” Said Richie, “And it was some big insurance scheme with the husband but he like murdered the wife’s sister?” 

 

Both couples turned away from Emily and Stephanie, deeply engrossed in their conversation about their lives. 

 

Emily raised an eyebrow at Stephanie, “Looks like I can’t take you anywhere.” 

 

… 

 

There was only one bed. She hadn’t really been thinking about that when she called Rachel up and ordered her to come along. That was, of course, because Rachel wasn’t the original person who was going to be going on the scouting trip with her. It was supposed to be Chet and Quinn knew it was only a matter of time before Rachel realized that, if she hadn’t already. 

 

Rachel held as much open disdain for Chet as she could with him being her boss and Quinn knew it was mostly because of her. But at least it would be slightly lessened by the fact that Quinn had opted to leave Chet back in LA and take Rachel instead. 

 

Not that Quinn cared what Rachel thought of her love life, because she didn’t. She shouldn’t. It wasn’t even Rachel’s place to have an opinion on her bosses love life, even if they were sharing a bed for a week. 

 

Quinn shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. 

 

Rachel glanced around the room, “So, uh, does the couch pull out?” 

 

It did not. 

 

“That’s fine,” Rachel said, “I’ve slept in worse places, hell, this is still a step up from my truck on set.” 

 

“You’re not sleeping on the couch for a week,” Quinn rolled her eyes, “The bed is big enough to share.” 

 

Rachel glanced at her for a moment longer than necessary before nodding and saying, “Okay.”

 

They changed out of their clothes, both too tired to do anything else, avoiding each other’s eyes. It wasn’t like they hadn’t changed in front of one another before, it wasn’t like they hadn’t shared a bed before. But Quinn held the knowledge that the room had been originally rented to rekindle a romance that really should just stay dead, to put it bluntly, the trip had been planned so Chet could fuck her and the thought of sharing the bed with Rachel made her skin prickle with heat. 

 

Quinn shoved down her emotion as she slipped into bed beside Rachel. Rachel stretched like a cat before rolling over onto her side to face Quinn on the pillow. 

 

“So you thinking a rustic theme for next season?” she said, inquiring after Quinn’s plans for Everlasting, which was the reason they were there, even if Quinn had temporary forgotten that. 

 

“What? Oh, yeah, rustic.”

 

“Lumberjacks gone wild?”

 

“It might be… interesting. Nothing like sex in the woods to boost ratings.”

 

“This was Chet’s idea, wasn’t it,” Rachel said, face impassive. 

 

Quinn huffed, now this conversation was just about saving face, “Well, he might have had some hand in it, but changing up locations is a good move.”

 

“Whatever you say boss,” said Rachel, eyes flicking down to Quinn’s mouth for the briefest second. Rachel shut her eyes. 

 

The bed was beginning to grow warm, and the sound of Rachel’s breathe slipped into the steady, tell-tale lull of sleep. Quinn let her eyes fall closed, but they only remained so for what felt like a few minutes.

 

That was when the screaming started. 


	2. in the bleak midwinter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said earlier that this takes place between s1 and s2 of unreal, but I changed my mind. It takes place between s2 and s3.

His name was Gregory Gable and he was dead. Jane has found him at the bottom of the stairs in a pool of his own blood. She’d started screaming, of course, and woken everyone up with the echoes of the horrid noise. 

 

It was the man Emily had jokingly said should join the hypothetical six way. 

 

Stephanie felt faint looking at the old man lying prone on the floor, his blood staining the carpet. She’d made a vlog a month ago about how diluted ammonia would get blood stains right out, but that information felt callous to even think at a time like that. She clutched at Emily’s arm for support and looked around. 

 

Both of the rude couples were there, as was Matt who was filming and talking with a tall, strong looking man Stephanie hadn’t seen before. 

 

“What happened?” someone asked. Stephanie turned to see the two women who’d been sitting together at dinner join them. It was The younger one who spoke, wearing an oversized T-shirt that just barely brushed the top of her legs. Her companion’s bobbed dark hair was slightly messy. Like everyone else, they looked to have been asleep. 

 

“Mr. Gable died,” said Stephanie, “It looks like he fell down the stairs.” 

 

“Did anyone see it happen?” The woman asked. 

 

“No but Jane found him,” Stephanie said. They both looked over at Jane who was sitting on the floor beside her husband making loud hiccuping sobs. 

 

“I’m Stephanie by the way,” she extended a hand, “and this is my wife Emily.” 

 

A flash of recognition dawned across the woman’s face as she said, “Oh that’s why you look familiar! You were the mommy blogger. I’m Rachel, this is Quinn.” 

 

It still supposed Stephanie every time someone recognized them. After everything with Emily and Sean, it had taken three months for the press to leave them alone, but in that time they’d turned down countless interviews with the likes of Good Morning America, Ellen, and The Late Show. The only upside was the rise in her subscriber numbers. 

 

“Quinn King,” Said Emily, “Executive producer of Everlasting, right? I believe you were seating at a table with my boss Dennis Nylon at last year’s Vanity Fair Emmys after party. I’m Emily Nelson, his director of public relations.” 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Quinn said smoothly, “Even under these unfortunate circumstances.” 

 

“Well none of us are any strangers to death,” Emily comment flippantly. 

 

“Indeed,” Said Quinn.

 

“Okay everybody?” A large, burly man stepped out from the room behind the front desk, “If you don’t know me, my name is Mickey Owen, I’m the owner and cook of the Sailor’s Delight Inn and Lodge. I called the police and they’ll be here in the morning. The ferries aren’t running this late at night so they have to wait for the first one out tomorrow, but don’t worry, it looks like Mr. Gable’s Death was just an unfortunate accident. You are all perfectly safe here. My staff and I will put the body somewhere for safe keeping and you all can head back to your rooms.” 

 

There were murmurs from the guests gathered, but slowly the began to filter back towards their room. 

 

“I guess we’ll see you in the morning,” Stephanie said to Quinn and Rachel. She tried to keep her tone samewhat cheerful, despite the grim turn of events, and gave them both a little wave as Emily took her hand turning to head back to bed. 

 

… 

 

The air was crisp with the unfamiliar feeling of a fresh blanket of snow. In her chilled doze, Rachel snuggled deeper into the heavy quilt. But as the arm around her waist tightened, Rachel was suddenly awake and acutely aware of who was was sharing a bed with. 

 

Quinn was still asleep, their bodies pressed together with Quinn’s lips almost touching Rachel’s forehead. Rachel kept her eyes closed, forcing herself to stay still. There was no way to get up without waking Quinn, and her desire to stay curled close outweighed the idea of waking up and making it awkward. 

 

She could feel her oversized sleep shirt bunched up against her ribs. Quinn’s arm mostly on material, but her hand resting against the soft skin of Rachel’s lower back. 

 

While her eyes may have remained closed, Rachel’s mind raced. Sure it was her, there in bed, wrapped up in Quinn’s embrace, but was supposed to be Chet. It was going to be Chet up until the eleventh hour when she’d gotten the midnight call. 

 

Just once Rachel wanted to be Quinn’s first choice. Not for the good of Everlasting, just her.  But for the moment, she gave up and snuggled closer. 

 

… 

 

The fresh snow made everything look clean and pure. It also change the sound, everything was crisp, and the footsteps of the lone figure made muffled crunching sounds. Slowly the shadow moved around the lodge, creeping, a target in mind. 

 

After climbing up on the iced over rain barrel, arms raised, wire cutters circled the phone line that was coming into the lodge. With a single movement, the phone line was cut and the guests of the Sailor’s Delight Inn and Lodge were cut off from anyone outside of the island. 

 

Jumping from the rain barrel, the figure walked to the edge of the cliff that overlooked the water. The snow had fallen heavy and it would be at least several days before any boats could get into the island. They were trapped together and it was glorious. 

 

… 

 

The snow day had proved to be a busy one. Stephanie had gotten them up, bright and early, excited to go for a hike in what she described as the scenic Pacific Northwest snowscape and, begrudgingly, Emily had indulged her. 

 

“Ooh! Emily! Look at this western white pine! They’re native to Washington state-“ Stephanie began, exclaiming excitedly about some amazingly stupid tree that looked like all the other trees around them. 

 

“And how is that tree any different from-” Emily gestured at the surrounding foliage, “The rest of the forest?” 

 

“Well, I was reading up on the Flora and Fauna of Washington State on the plane ride over and-“  _ Smack! _

 

The snowball hit Stephanie’s shoulder with a wet smack, splattering snow everywhere. She whirled around with a gasp, just as Emily loosed a second snowball, which hit Stephanie on the side of the head. 

 

“Emily!” She shrieked, before ducking to scoop up her own snowball and throw it at Emily. 

 

The fight was on, lasting until somehow Stephanie managed to get on top of her, a camp of snow in both hands. 

 

“Baby, baby don’t,” Emily said, eyeing the snow in Stephanie’s hands. Both of her arms were tucked at her sides, Stephanie’s legs straddling her body and arms. 

 

Stephanie grinned devilishly before lifting her chunk of snow up over Emily’s head. She shook it, causing an artificial snowfall. 

 

Emily winced as snowflakes caught on her eyelashes, “That’s cute baby, can I get up now?” 

 

Laughing, Stephanie leaned down to kiss her wife, “How about we head back to the lodge and get warmed up?” 

 

… 

 

The power went out at three pm exactly. It wasn’t a big thing, it was still light outside so it only proved to be a minor inconvenience at the time. 

 

At three pm, Rachel was wandering the halls, thinking about Quinn and camera angles but mostly Quinn. Rachel had dozed off again and when she’d woke the second time, Quinn was gone. She found her a few minutes later, finishing off a cup of coffee in the dinner room. They hardly said ten words to each other what with Quinn tapping at her phone, annoyed, and Rachel poking at her toast with jam. 

 

“Service here sucks,” Quinn said, in lieu of farewell, grabbing her jacket as she walked off without a backwards glance. 

 

So Rachel wandered, scoping out conference rooms that could be converted into ballrooms, common rooms that would work for hair and makeup, another out of the way places that could work as their control room, and one room with a big window that would be perfect for Quinn’s office. 

 

“Hey,” a voice said behind her at about two forty five.

 

Rachel had skipped lunch. Turning she was a man she recognized from the lobby last night. 

 

“Hey,” she said. 

 

“I’m Andrew,” he extended a hand, “You're Rachel, right? I remember you from last night. You were wearing a Vassar shirt if I remember correctly.” 

 

“Yeah,” Rachel held his gaze, “That’s too bad about that guy who fell.” 

 

Andrew nodded, “Yeah. So you’re up here with your sister for a vacation? This snow is really picturesque.” 

 

“My- ?” Rachel shook her head, “No, Quinn’s my boss.” 

 

“Oh, that’s-“ he began but stopped as the lights went out. The humming white noise that Rachel hadn’t really noticed before cut out at the same time, leaving them standing the hallway dark and eerily silent. She instinctively flattened herself to the wall. 

 

“Uhhh,” Rachel could hear Andrew fumbling around in the dark. His hand brushed her arm and she jumped. 

 

“That’s me,” she said as she inched away. 

 

“Oh,” he laughed, “Right, sorry. There’s got to be a light switch somewhere.” 

 

Not five minutes later, with a hum of energy, the lights came back on. Rachel blinked, eyes adjusting to the light to see Andrew watching her. She knew that look, she’d seen it on plenty of men- crew members, suitors, guys in bars- and usually she liked it, she knew how to use it to her advantage, but at that moment the hallway seemed too small and Andrew was too close. 

 

“I should get going,” she said, giving him half a smile as she slipped past him. 

 

“Are you going down to the lobby?” Asked Andrew, without waiting for an answer he began to walk with her, “I’m headed that way too.” 

 

“Are you here with friends or something?” Rachel said. 

 

“Or something,” Said Andrew. 

 

Rachel nodded, rounding the corner to the staircase that extended from the top floor to the lobby. That’s when she saw her. 

 

From the chandelier, from a noose, hung a woman Rachel hadn’t seen before. She was dead. Andrew gasped. 

 

“Lucy!” 

 

Frozen to the place on the stairs, Rachel could only stare. Below them, a man and a woman, both of whom Rachel assumed were also guests, walked into the lobby. The man looked up, grew immediately pale and sank to his knees with an anguished cry. The woman fainted. 

 

Rachel was only vaguely aware of that happening though, she was rooted to the spot, unable to look away from the swinging body. 

 

“She’s dead,” she whispered. 

 

Lucy’s body turned on the rope, long dark hair hiding most of her face. But as she turned dead eyes stared back at Rachel. Rachel couldn’t breathe. 

 

“Rachel. Rachel!” Hands gripped Rachel’s wrists, but she couldn’t turn to look and see who it was. 

 

“Rachel look at me,” a hand moved from her wrist to cup her cheek, forcing her to look away from the body and to Quinn. 

 

“She’s dead,” Rachel said, “She’s dead she’s really dead, Quinn-“ 

 

“Yeah, I know. Keep looking at me okay? We’re going to go to our room now, alright?” Quinn said. With firm but gentle hands, she turned Rachel back towards the hallway and lead her back to their room. 

 

Quinn kept an arm around Rachel’s shoulders until they were safely locked in. Rachel sat down on the edge of the bed still in shock. 

 

“Hey,” Quinn sat down next to her, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Rachel’s ear, “Talk to me Goldberg.” 

 

“It’s like Mary all over again.”

 

“No, it’s not. We didn’t even know that woman. The lodge will call the police again and get everything straightened out. It’s going to be fine,” Quinn said. 

 

“She couldn’t have gotten the rope on the chandelier by herself,” said Rachel after a moment. 

 

“What?” 

 

“She was hanging from the chandelier and I don’t think she could have done that by herself.” 

 

“You think someone killed her?” 

 

“What if that old guy last night didn’t fall?” 

 

… 

 

Danny forced himself to tear his eyes from the body hanging above the lobby. Mickey was doing his best to shepard the guests from the lobby into the dining room, but it wasn’t going well. 

 

Jane’s sobs rang in his ears, and out of the corner of his eye, Danny could see her husband, Andrew, and Chloe try to guide her from the room but she just continued to wail. 

 

Ritchie sat oh the floor, in shock of what had happened. He stained straight ahead, not looking at the people around him or his wife Lucy still hanging from the ceiling. Everyone moved around him, not talking to him, not touching him. He was like a ghost in their midsts. 

 

“Are you calling the police?” A voice asked. Danny looked up to see Matthew Ward standing in from of the desk holding a video camera. 

 

“Yeah, uh, why are you filming?” Danny asked, phone handset held in midair. 

 

“I vlog everyday bro,” said Matthew, “Nothing is too extreme much for my channel.” 

 

Danny watched as Matthew turned in a circle, slowly panning around the room. He stopped as the honeymooners who’d checked in yesterday walked past. 

 

“Hey, Stephanie,” Matthew whispered, “Did you know the deceased at all?” 

 

“Matt,” Stephanie hissed, “I don’t think you should be filming right now, it’s inappropriate!” 

 

Danny went back to making his phone call as Matt/Matthew walked around so both Danny and Stephanie were in his shot. Holding the handset up to his ear, Danny shakily punched in 911.

 

Nothing. No dial tone, no ringing, no busy signal, just silence. He slammed the handset down then picked it up, trying again. Still nothing. 

 

“Danny? What’s wrong?” Stephanie asked as Danny tried again and again. 

 

“I can’t call out,” Said Danny, “It’s just… nothing.” 

 

“What do you mean you can’t call out?” His coworker Chloe said, walking over, “We need to call the police.” 

 

“It’s just nothing! No sound, no dial tone! I can’t call the police!” 

 

“Okay everyone, let’s just stay calm,” said Emily. 

 

“Go get Mickey,” Danny told Chloe. 

 

… 

 

Emily pushed Stephanie up against the closed door of their hotel room, roughly kissing her. Stephanie kissed right back, all the sharpness of teeth and tongues that came with the passion to live that encountering death gave. 

 

“Is it bad to say that murder kinda turns me on?” Emily asked between kisses. 

 

“Yes,” Stephanie said, pushing her back, “Get on the bed and take off your clothes.” 

 

Laughing, Emily bent to grab Stephanie by the waist, hoisting her over her shoulder and depositing her on the bed as Stephanie squeaked.  She quickly unbuttoned her sweater, tossing it aside before pulling off the T-shirt underneath. 

 

Emily pulled loose her tie with one hand, shedding her jacket, “That old man last night definitely wasn’t an accident, neither was the girl today.” 

 

Getting up onto her knees, Stephanie started unbuttoning Emily’s shirt, “Yeah and when we find out who’s behind this I’m gonna murder them for messing up my honeymoon.” 

 

“When we find them? Babe,” Emily grinned, “That’s really sexy. Tell me how you’re going to kill this fucker.” 

 

Stephanie tilted her head in that adorable way she did when she was thinking, “Hmm.” 

 

“First I’d tie him to a chair, it’s going to be a him, isn’t it?” She said as she plushed the shirt off of Emily’s shoulders, “Then I’d make him wait. Just think about all the ways I could do it. Maybe get out some weapons and just have them around.” 

 

She unfastened Emily’s trousers before laying back on the bed to let Emily do the same with her jeans, “Then I’d choke him to death, really slowly so it’s like falling asleep. What do you think?” 

 

“I think I’ve corrupted you baby,” Emily said, “But it’s so sexy when you talk like that.” 

 

Emily was quick to discard her trousers as Stephanie tossed her underwear into their growing pile of clothes. Catching Stephanie’s foot, Emily tugged her onto her back, kissing the inside of her ankle. Stephanie relaxed back onto the bed with a sigh. 

 

With a sly smile, Emily kissed her away up the inside of Stephanie’s leg. She kissed the curve of her knee, the tender place inside her thigh. Stephanie’s legs fell open. Leaning down Emily moved like she was going to go down on her wife but moved at the last moment, kissing her on the stomach instead. 

 

Stephanie made a noise of disappointment in the back of her throat. 

 

Leaving messy kisses in her wake, Emily moved up Stephanie’s body, kissing her softly on the mouth before saying, “Murderers aside, let’s enjoy our honeymoon.” 

 

… 

 

Quinn had been waiting at the bar for twelve minutes and had yet to see any of the lodge’s staff- or any of the other guests- and she was growing impatient. 

 

“Hello there,” a voice said behind her, and Quinn turned to see Emily Nelson, suit clad and walking across the barren dining room towards her. 

 

“If you’re here for a drink you’ll be waiting awhile,” Quinn said in lieu of greeting, “There’s no one here.” 

 

“Yeah there probably all hiding out,” Emily said, stepping behind the bar to make herself a drink, “Oh, you probably didn’t hear, you left with what’s her name-“ 

 

“Rachel,” 

 

“Yeah, Rachel. You left with her pretty fast.”

 

“What happened?” 

 

“The phone lines were cut so we can’t call the police about that Lucy woman,” Said Emily as she mixed a martini, “Want a martini?” 

 

“No thanks. Did you say the phone lines have cut? So we’re stuck here?” 

 

“Yeah and it’s snowing again. Plus Mickey, the owner of this place, said the ferries can’t run until the snow clears. So we’re stuck here in the snow with whoever killed Lucy and that old guy.” 

 

Quinn sighed as she tried to process this information, “I changed my mind, I want that martini after all.” 

 


End file.
